A Desk, A Gavel, Three Warblers
by ohlookrandom
Summary: "At any rate," Thad grumbled, "why am I on the floor with both of you?"


This is the result of me being really bored and trying to create a college essay out of basically nothing. So I looked at my desk... And here you go, a drabble was born!

Disclaimer: I do not own these Warblers. I wish I did, because I mean, they're rock stars. But they all belong to Ryan Murphy. :(

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><p>"Wes! <em>What <em>are you doing?"

"Shhhh!" was the angry hiss, and the next second, David was alarmed to have himself dragged down to Wes's level.

The Asian boy- the _very _angry Asian boy, David noted with some trepidation- glared at him. "You," he said levelly, with venom dripping from the words, "are going to get back up like you've just tripped and fallen down. And then you will keep walking. Away from here. Do you understand?"

"Why?" David wanted to know, not budging from his position.

"What on earth is going on?" Thad wanted to know, walking up to them. "Why are the both of you hiding under-" And then Wes kicked Thad's legs from under him. "Ouch! Wesley! Do you mock me?"

"Sorry," Wes grumbled. "Honestly you two are botching my carefully laid plans."

"Oh, this from the boy who-"

"We said we'd never talk about that incident again," Thad intervened hastily when he saw Wes's glare turn upon David with the intensity of a million bolts. "At any rate, why am I on the floor with the both of you?"

"Yeah," David nodded, "why _are _we hiding under the Council table?"

"I'll smack you over the head if you ask me another question. Now get under this table," Wes snapped, and Thad and David reluctantly fell silent. The silence stretched for ages, the air mind-numbingly still, until Thad exploded.

"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT WE'RE DOING?"

David rubbed his temples. Thad had never been the one for patience.

"We," Wes said calmly, though every syllable dripped with ice, "are waiting."

"For what?" David wanted to know. Thad sighed in relief as David capably took over the reins of probing Wes. David was reasonable. David was sensible. David was calm. David would-

"Just wait," Wes said in response, and David- capable, calm, reasonable, _sensible _David- shrugged and went back to staring at the floor.

Wait, what?

Thad was about to explode again when all three of them heard a noise outside the double doors. "Shh, shh!" Wes hissed wildly, and this time David and Thad actually complied voluntarily. David gulped nervously, having watched too many Criminal Minds; Thad wondered how he would disarm someone if they tried to attack him; and Wes simply lay where he was, unmoving like a cat in wait. Thad caught sight of his completely still form and was so tempted to poke Wes just to see if he was still alive.

The room was quiet again, until all three boys heard a muffled voice from behind the doors. "Coast clear?" it sounded like the voice was asking.

There was another muffled exchange, and then the doors creaked open. From his spot under the desk, David could see a tiny crack that joined the pieces of sturdy wood together. _I should really get that fixed_, he mentally noted. But in the meantime, he squinted as he watched the two blazer-clad boys sneak in. There was no mistaking _that _shock of blond hair…. And what was that in his hand? Surely not-

"Butter _this _time?" he heard someone say in an amused voice.

"Did you _see _his face last time when the gavel wouldn't come off his hand?" a second voice chortled. "Watch, today it won't stay _in _his hand."

"Oh really!" And Wes sprang from his position, thoroughly upsetting David and Thad, who yelled in pain when Wes's momentum caused them to bang their heads against the desk. Thad was the first to recover, unfolding his lanky frame from the compressed space and pulling himself up with some dignity. David followed soon after, rubbing his head in pain. Wes folded his arms. "So _you _two were the ones who messed with my gavel!"

"We didn't mean it," Jeff said brightly, backing away.

"Thought we could… _butter _you up-" And Nick was out the doors, laughing wildly as he tore down the halls, Jeff following close on his heels. Their peals of insane laughter reverberated back into the Dalton practice room, where the Council stood together with the still-intact gavel.

"So let me get this straight," David said in the silence that followed. He turned to a satisfied Wes, who had tucked the gavel into his pocket. It looked absolutely _ridiculous_, bulging out from his blazer. "You made us _hide _under a table because of your gavel?"

"They were tampering with it," Wes offered by means of explanation, and Thad only dragged his hand down his face.

"Wes, we need to get you therapy," he sighed.

"The ones who need therapy are Nick and Jeff!" Wes said indignantly. "Who would ever want to mess with _my _gavel?" He rolled his eyes as he dragged his chair towards him and promptly sat down, the first few Warblers filing into the room for practice. "And they wonder why they never get any solos."

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><p>I actually had a ton of fun writing this. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it- drop a line or two to let me know what you think :)<p>

Love y'all!


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